Excerpt: ..."Didn't you come through our lower dormitories last night after ten, sir?" "I went to smoke a pipe with your house-master. No, I didn't give him any impressions. I took a short cut through your dormitories." "I sniffed a whiff of 'baccy, this mornin'. Yours is stronger than Mr. Prout's. I knew," said Beetle, wagging his head. "Good heavens!" said the Reverend John absently. It was some years before Beetle perceived that this was rather a tribute to innocence than observation. The long, light, blindless dormitories, devoid of inner doors, were crossed at all hours of the night by masters visiting one another; for bachelors sit up later than married folk. Beetle had never dreamed that there might be a purpose in this steady policing. "Talking about bullying," the Reverend John resumed, "you all caught it pretty hot when you were fags, didn't you?" "Well, we must have been rather awful little beasts," said Beetle, looking serenely over the gulf between eleven and sixteen. "My Hat, what bullies they were then